


Pestilence

by GrassyOrchards



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt and comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Ruvik is Ruvik, The straw that breaks the camels back, Torture, their dynamic is definitely unhealthy, this is more fucked up than I intended going in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:20:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25091503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrassyOrchards/pseuds/GrassyOrchards
Summary: "Do you still think you have any power here?" Ruvik speaks lowly, an amused lilt in his tone.
Relationships: Sebastian Castellanos/Ruben "Ruvik" Victoriano
Comments: 5
Kudos: 84





	Pestilence

Sebastian hadn't seen anything dangerous for far too long now. His skin itched with anticipation, and his ears rang-there had to be something around the corner. Something twisted waiting for him. A deformed monster shifted far from the shape of a man, or a horde of common haunted itching to bite out his throat. 

He was surprised instead to see Ruvik at the end of a dark hall, a slight breeze pushing past his robe. An angry glare sets across Sebastian's face and he places his hand on his pistol-just because the sadist wasn't actively holding a knife to his throat didn't mean he wasn't a very prominent threat all the same. The scientist could raise a thousand threats to his side, kill him with a single touch. If only he didn't like the thrill of the game so much. They were in a loop of cat and mouse, and he was quite unfortunately the mouse in this situation. 

"Do you still think you have any power here?" Ruvik speaks lowly, an amused lilt in his tone. Teeth gnashing in primal rage Sebastian moves to retort, but is quickly shut down as a twisted fleshy beast bursts out of nowhere from the darkness on his right. He throws up the pistol and lines up for a headshot, pulling the trigger with expert precision-It doesn't fire. His heart rate spikes as gnashing teeth are suddenly in his face, it tackles him down and they fight for leverage. Rotten twisted hands scrabble at him, desperate to get a grip, and Sebastian is entirely focused on keeping it away. It snaps at him like a feral dog, stupid and only having the focus for the one primitive task. The detective was nothing but a troublesome meal here. He knew that gun was loaded, four fresh bullets from a room he cleared less than ten minutes ago. Ruvik was toying with him. With a mere moment of leverage he punches it in the side of the head and rolls away, jumping to his feet and ready to fight. It isn't there.

"I give you the ability to defend yourself, the tools to survive here." Ruvik taunts, drawing back his attention. A cruel smile crosses his ghostly lips, hints of his teeth showing. "And I can take them all away too, Seb." The gun disappears into a wisp of smoke, and one by one he feels the weight of the rest of his weapons fall to the same fate. 

Sebastian squares his shoulder and sharpens his eyes into a glare. "What the hell is this sick game, Ruvick? These are real people, you aren't just toying with thoughts, you're killing-" He is interrupted by a burst of anger, visible with the world distorting wave that shoots out. The hallway seems to stretch, then snap back to reality. He falters in only a minor misstep with the twist, but quickly steels himself-He had faced the man's presence and all the unpleasant quirks to go with it many times before, they hardly phased him at this point.

Ruvik is angry, showing more emotion than he had before. It was rage, something that should be feared, or at least approached warily. But there was a vulnerability behind his eyes, a raw nerve touched that he hadn't even been going for. He doesn't retreat. "This is not a game. This is my research, my life's work, bastardized into this ostentatious amalgamation of all that is vile and twisted." The rage slowly simmers into the normal calm, eyes closing and reopening to calm himself. "If they are going to send weak minds in here like pigs to the slaughter, then I shall feast. Those that have died are obsolete, weak vermin, parasites sent to gnaw on my remains. To flush me out of my own head… But you." He grows thoughtful, the slightest twitch of a smile ghosting across his face. "You were dragged into this, yet put up the greatest fight. Your desire to fight and survive is admirable, far superior to the other pathetic drivel sent to me-I would enjoy cutting you open and seeing what makes you tick." 

He stills, heart catching in his throat, balling his hands into fists. He wouldn't be some disected lab rat. The scientist sighs, scarred hands opening to his sides in a wings outstretched manner. "But I have something even better than your exposed frontal lobe…" The sharp ringing that usually accompanies his arrival begins to roar in his ears, deafening. He claps his hands over them, groaning in pain. Ruvik speaks again, only now it feels like the voice is coming from inside his own head. "You're mine, Seb. I know everything about you, I know you in ways no one else can. Your pain, your pleasure, and everything in between is mine. And best yet-" the ringing stops abruptly, leaving Sebastisn to catch himself on his knees. He heaves heavily, a few drops of blood falling from his nose. He's on his feet as quickly as he can, but he's still weaponless. The scenery has twisted into a pitch black expanse of nothing. He's standing in a spotlight. There was no way this ended well-

"You need me." The words echoed around the vast emptiness a few seconds until chaos broke through. Noise, shuffling, groaning, screaming on all sides. Hundreds of haunted shrouded in darkness, all zeroing in on him at once. Panic rises in his chest but there is nothing he can do, he is as powerless as Ruvik wants him to be. They crash into him from the front first, twisted faces coming into the light in the dozens. Hands grab at him everywhere, nails digging in and shoving. He lands on his back and opens his mouth to breathe but the preying hands only find this as an opportunity to tear at more of him. They continue to pile on, suffocating him beneath their grasp. 

They pull at his flesh until it tears, and it isn't long that his bravado is reduced into agonized screams. They rip at him mercilessly and no matter where he twists or turns to, there are more, countless mocking faces, gnashing teeth, broken greedy fingers. He wails when the first one lands purchase with its teeth. Human teeth are dull and flat, they were not meant to tear raw meat off of live struggling prey. But the haunted are ravenous. The teeth sink in deep to his shoulder, and when they cannot continue deeper they pull instead. The mouthful of flesh comes away with a sickening tearing, blood spurting in rivers from the huge wound. His heart is racing, he's going to die. The pain is nearly unbearable, high pitched whines and dying pleads falling from his lips as more sink their teeth in. He shuts his eyes as tears well up, uncaring of his show of weakness because he was getting eaten alive. His entire body was lit up with agony, fingers ripping at his skin, teeth tearing away pieces of him in chunks. He should be dead from blood loss if nothing else. 

Teeth sink into his neck and his panic rises, thrashing in the hold but ultimately only helping the beast pry his flesh away. He stares up, choking on sobs and blood. The only spot of light is now blinding. He's desperate now "Okay I get it-I need you!" He calls out, throat raw with the pain. Without further response he jolts, an uncharacteristic desperation rising in him. He would rather look pathetic than die. "Ruvik I need you!" He calls again, and this time he sees his solace. A pale burnt hand reaching out amongst the dozens, a beacon of hope, he wrestles away his own and reaches out, trying not to stare at the peeling skin and chunks of missing flesh in his own body.

He feels the twisted layers of scar tissue, and squeezes. He's pulled forwards and his world jolts, there's too much light, he's standing but all he wants to do is collapse. His body no longer hurts, there are no bites or missing skin but he can still feel their hands pawing at him, distant reminders. He's pressed into something cool, but the sun on his back warms him. He shivers despite himself, and slowly recognizes that he is leaning against Ruvik. It's too much, this hellhole has finally dished out too much for him. He begins crying, he's vulnerable, shaking and crying in the arms of the enemy but he can't give a damn. There is only so much the human mind can take before it snaps, and he didn't come here feeling very strong. His legs give out and he stumbles, completely falling into the shorter man who catches him with ease. Through his tears he sees sunflowers over Ruvik's shoulder, endless rows. He knows this place.

Ruvik's arms wrap around him, oddly gentle in comparison to what they had just caused. He leaned into the touch, disgusted with himself. He hadn't had comfort in so long, no human contact at all really. Even before the STEM mishap, the real world was so dull and empty without his girls. It felt so normal, so soothing, to turn to it. He grips desperately at the tattered robes, bunching up the loose fabric in his fists. It was a facade, false security, but he would rather find comfort in the enemy than die miserable and alone.

"A crack in the eggshell." Ruvik notes aloud, raising a hand to card fingers through his hair. He shudders and closes his eyes, if he could disassociate from Ruvik this would be pleasant. There was no way he wasn't about to be torn to pieces or tormented. He wasn't safe, but for the first time in a long time he didn't care. Sugar coated lies were easier to face than the alternative. "You're so needy, Seb." His voice is curious, analytical, the tiniest bit surprised. "A new side of you."

He feels Ruvik's breath against his ear "And it's all mine too." They sink into the grass, knees against wet soil. Arms are still around each other. Fingers carve shapes into his scalp, twisting lines. Probably mapping out the different sections of his brain. It's too calming. Sebastian suddenly feels like he hasn't slept in days, he probably hasn't. The constant running and fighting, followed by being torn apart and thrown back together again-He was beyond exhausted. When Ruvik begins to hum a painfully familiar tune he loses himself to unconsciousness, caught in the arms of his enemy and unbearably vulnerable.

He awakens(surprisingly) in Ruvik's old room in the manor, tucked in like an overgrown child and feeling more relaxed and refreshed than he had in years. His weapons are on the side table, shining and looking freshly polished. He feels clean, dirt and blood gone from his clothes and body. Even the deep ache in his muscles is gone. Strapping his weapons back on there's a pep in his step, but he's cautious. Ruvik would not give without demanding something in return. The sunflower perched alongside his shotgun is a clear enough reminder of that.

**Author's Note:**

> My love for Ruvik grows by the day, soon I will be unstoppable.
> 
> Glad there are still some people in this fandom!!!


End file.
